


Sirenic Temptation

by rainistender



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: F/M, Force Bond (Star Wars), Telepathic Bond, Telepathy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-09
Updated: 2017-09-19
Packaged: 2018-11-29 19:41:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11447736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainistender/pseuds/rainistender
Summary: Sometimes, life causes us to deny ourselves that which we ardently desire. The best things do not come easily or for free. Does the price justify the prize? Or can compromise arise in the unlikeliest of places?Or, a series of conversations between a lonely warrior and a complicated admirer.





	1. Commence The Trials

**Author's Note:**

> After I wrote my one-shot, inspiration visited and gifted me with another idea. So, this will be a multi-story fic. I hope to update somewhat frequently. This takes place Post TFA. As a disclaimer, I do not own Star Wars or its characters. I'm simply a friendly fan. Come visit me on Tumblr at rainistender. I'm happy to accept prompts.

The first time it occurs, it proves itself to be relatively brief. Unexpectedly fleeting. The purpose is not to glean insight or beguile, but to formally enlighten. He simply wishes to inform her of what has come to be - what _is_ to be. It starts as a gentle caress - a tentative nudge against her consciousness. A tender whisper designed to ensure that his alluring voice is heard in its metaphysical state. 

" _Rey_." 

She's in the process of exploring all that is the Force when it precipitously transpires. Closed lids snap open with irreproachable expedition as she's startled out of her tranquilizing session of meditation. Cautious glances are hastily cast at lush scenery. It's so swift - barely discernible - that she nearly convinces herself that it is but a passing figment of an enriched imagination. An unconventional product of a fatigued mind. However, tenacity instigates an audible reprise. 

" _Rey_." 

More insistent, it practically enjoins her to relinquish concentration. Umber brows are furrowed as a pensive frown tugs at nude lips. No, this is not some mirage destined to be forgotten momentarily. If she just shifts her focus from serene thoughts of placid tides and imperturbable stillness, she can detect ethereal tendrils of darkness lapping at her shrewd mind. The invasive things are as enthralling as they are familiar. A particular name - dreaded and fearsome in nature - forms on the tip of her brazen tongue, but it is neither spoken aloud nor used to address him preternaturally. 

" _I don't talk to monsters_." 

An ephemeral flare of pain - sentimental as opposed to physical - is effortlessly perceived and it baffles her. Murderous and antagonistic, why should a beast such as he be offended by the unambiguous presentation of a glaring truth? He clearly aims to petrify and devastate millions, so why should the articulation of his bestiality dishearten him?

" _Do you not wish to know how this is happening? Do you not wish to know **why** this will happen again?_ " 

She'd like to rid herself of this perplexing menace permanently. Even though a traitorous voice of curiosity beseeches her to maintain contact with this abstruse conundrum, she knows that such a precarious path could prove to be detrimental to her resolve. An impermissible consequence of utter heedlessness. 

" _My **wish**  is for you to leave me alone._" 

She hears him emit a vexatious chuckle. Unmitigated ire is kindled within her and it only swells as he speaks.

" _I can assure you, that will not happen. I assume that old fool has not told you of Force Bonds._ " 

It's been but three lengthy weeks since her preordained arrival on this aqueous and viridescent planet. Such a peculiar term has most definitely _not_ arisen. Honestly? She's not entirely sure that she _wants_ to be made aware of them. 

" _Luke Skywalker is no fool. He's more of a respectable teacher than you could ever be._ " 

Immediately does he become exceptionally waspish and she can tell that he feels compelled to initiate a cantankerous debate. Disturbingly enough, there's also an appreciable hint of unconcealed possessiveness. No, not for his forsaken uncle......but for her.

" _A tiresome argument for another time. With rare exceptions, Force Bonds are profound connections that were once formed between Jedi Masters and their Padawans. Inseverable, they allow individuals to share emotions and thoughts. They offer additional benefits such as strengthening those who share a bond._ " 

While the undying part of her that ravenously craves knowledge finds fascinating these newfound details, she detests the underlying implication. 

" _Sounds like something I don't need_." 

An impenitent smirk appears on his lips. She can _sense_ its abrupt formation. 

" _Yet you have one. **We** have one_." 

An abhorrent revelation that she anticipated but a moment ago. One that makes her wish this moment was but one of the hellish nightmares that unremittingly beleaguer her. A disconcerting illusion to wake from. She truly wants to believe that he is weaving a fallacious tale, but there is not a hint of perfidy to be distinguished.

" _Just because we do, doesn't mean it must be used. Something can exist without being noticed or cared for_." 

The audacious smirk promptly becomes a disappointed frown. Yet again, he's inexplicably wounded by the undeniable truth. After all, this is a significant lesson that arduous years of lonesomeness and neglect on Jakku has irrevocably presented her with.

" _Perhaps, but I **want** to care for it. It **should** be nurtured. Not **abandoned**_."

It's _her_ turn to experience emotional discomfort. It's almost as if he's resuscitated and spotlighted the dejection that she strove to squelch. A fathomless dolefulness that was conceived by the faceless and nameless people who deposited her on merciless sands when she was but a credulous cherub. An ingenuous tot yearning for parental affection. 

" _Leave_." 

No longer is she in a mood to converse with this bearer of unfortunate news. Not that she was to begin with. Miraculously, he concedes. She's much too in need of solitude - a capricious thing that will undoubtedly enable her to regain her composure - to foolishly question such luck. 

" _Very well, but you have my word that I will return_." 

She knows this to be as true as the glistening tears that threaten to spill from her expressive eyes. Without a doubt, he'll be back and she will be prepared.  


	2. Avoidance & Progress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Varying opinions of isolated teachers contend with each other and progress manifests itself in several forms. The groundwork for the future is further established. The pieces of this galactic game of chess are moved forward, because there is no going back now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back with chapter two! Thank you all so much for the kudos from the previous chapter. It truly makes me happy. I hope that you enjoy this one as well. As always, I own neither the Star Wars universe nor the elements from it ( such as characters and settings ). I'm simply a fellow fan who loves showing her appreciation through creative writing. I can be found on Tumblr at rainistender and I'm always accepting prompts there.

When his inevitable return transpires, she’s surprised. No, not by the anticipated occurrence itself per se, but by his unexpected patience in approaching her once more. She predicted that those unnerving tendrils would encroach on her psychological privacy the day after the consequential revelation, but an entire _**week**_ has miraculously managed to pass.

A considerably enlightening week during which she vaguely inquired about this imperishable bond and received copious amounts of information from her chosen mentor despite the suspicious glances that were discreetly tossed her way. Naturally, with impeccable finesse, she dodged any queries that he would pose in order to discover the source of her newfound curiosity regarding the esoteric topic. Sure, there were tricky moments in which her delicate secret was nearly unveiled, but she successfully managed to work her way out of them. At least, this is what she optimistically believes. Unfortunately, while the memorable details that have been bounteously fed to her are useful - certainly not insignificant, they are also quite execrable. They do not invalidate _**his** _ statements, but rather cement them as unignorable truths. 

Nevertheless, when his consciousness brushes against hers once more with unfaltering conviction, she’s in the middle of enjoying an evening meal. Unpretentious but infinitely more appealing than portion bread. A hearty stew that tenderly soothes the tongue and leaves her satisfied in a way that nothing else has. Not enough to satiate the perpetual hunger that the stark austerity of Jakku fostered in her, but still. His commanding voice is a firm and enticing caress. It impishly teases her into ensuring that he does not perform a monologue before a voiceless audience. His peremptory hubris has an irksome ability to unfailingly solicit a response from her and this is knowledge that he wields with noteworthy skill. 

“ _One would think that you would preoccupied with the meager lessons of a recluse right now, but you find them just as insufficient and aggravating as I once did_.” 

Too often is she reminded of the contentious fact that she’s consciously following in his footsteps. Not completely, but an appreciable fragment of his sinuous path has become hers as well. She just won’t make the costly mistake of forsaking the sagacious maverick. Umber arches are elevated as she tests him. 

“ _What makes you think that I’m not happy here?_ ” 

She can feel his unrestrained smirk deepen. It’s as if his amusement - unconcealed and unfeigned - is hers as well. It agitates and fascinates her at the same time, but she purposefully attempts to banish it as she unceremoniously slurps up more of her wholesome meal. 

“ _Your emotions betray you. Your dissatisfaction is palpable._ ” 

An impetuous scoff precipitately leaves moist lips as she firmly sets down the wooden bowl being held by her dexterous extremities. Never has the spirited female possessed dining habits to take pride in. 

“ _Still better than becoming a murderous monster._ ”  

Though her erudite teacher’s lessons are not as stimulating as she’d like for them to be and the speed at which they’re progressing leaves her malcontented to a degree, she tells herself that she would much rather be here on this picturesque planet than with the temperamental warlord. The treacherous part of her that occasionally endeavors to envision a life like that - with this engrossing enigma - is always stifled. A tedious challenge made more arduous by the guileless wonderment that he reserves for her. She can hear it in his voice now.

“ _So easily do you make assumptions about a future that you denied. So easily do you presume to know my competence as a teacher despite knowing nothing about my methods._ ” 

A tetchy scowl graces her juvenescent countenance with its conspicuous presence. 

“ _I know enough about you_.” 

Inflammatory amusement subsides as a gelid aloofness replaces it. He trades his audacious smirk for an inhospitable sneer. She’s unable to determine whether he’s vexed by her incautious simplification of him or if the notion of being demystified ( even if only slightly ) in a _**short**_ amount of time perturbs him.  

“ _You know little about me_.” 

This terse rebuttal goes unrefuted, but her curt response is not exactly one of concurrence. 

“ _I don’t care to know more_.” 

His blemished visage softens, but there is no pain to be discerned. She cannot help but wonder if he can perceive the insincerity hiding 'neath her brusque rejoinder. 

“ _I doubt that_.” 

Again, she won’t voluntarily grant him the satisfaction of categorical agreement. 

“ _What do you want today?_ ” 

The pestilential circuity of this frictional confab has begun to wear out what little patience she has when it comes to the intractable zealot.   

“ _What I’ve wanted ever since we met. You_.” 

Hazel eyes are furiously narrowed at abysmal phrasing. To an onlooker, it might seem as if she’s heatedly glaring at the horizon. The ravenous possessiveness that made striking his succinct answer is overshadowed by his facetious usage of the word ‘met’. How she wishes she could shove him off the steepest cliff for it.

“ _If you consider **abduction** an **introduction** , I suppose we did meet._” 

Where an unapologetic chuckle might have been expected is prolonged silence. It almost seems as if he’s genuinely contrite, but she knows better.  Doesn’t she? Could it truly be something other than a farcical mirage?

“ _A different meeting would have been preferable, but I won’t claim to regret meeting you at all. If you had a proper instructor, you’d appreciate your connection to the Force more than you already do. You did become aware of it because of me, after all._ ” 

She's **seething**. Not for the first time does she maliciously wish that she could injure him for such unpardonable presumptuousness. Her wrathful indignation gratifies him immensely and she’s abruptly reminded of the wrongness of vindictiveness. This bloodthirsty warrior who craves cathartic vengeance is only who **he** makes her. It isn’t truly her.  

“ _If you’re looking for gratitude, you’ve come to the wrong place. I don’t appreciate being kidnapped_.” 

As an insolent smile flirts with his unpredictable lips, she realizes that he could be equally aware of **her** facial expressions. To preternaturally sense the contortion of another’s facial features is truly a surreal experience. One to which she must grudgingly become accustomed.   

“ _I would be willing to arrange a meeting on neutral territory, if that is your wish_.” 

It’s a baffling offer - one that they both know is likely to be swiftly met with unambiguous rejection, but she entertains his preposterous insensibility. There's a disloyal part of her - one that she willfully endeavors to suppress - that wishes to meticulously decipher the intricate mystery that is her...bondmate. An intimate term that she detests, but it's certainly better than referring to him as her erstwhile captor.  

“ _Why would I want that?_ ” 

Has she not made it perfectly clear to him that their continued separation is what she desires? Perhaps not wholeheartedly, but certainly to an extent. Nothing good can be accomplished by meeting up with him.

“ _You could come with me by **choice**. The only other option involves me returning you to my side **without** your permission._ ” 

Why it is that he feels as if his will is of paramount importance - as if he is justified in controlling others - is beyond her. Perhaps there hasn’t been anyone strong enough to force him to believe otherwise. Aside from the autocratic abomination he calls his master, that is. Regardless, his unflinching intransigence in capturing her both disconcerts and incenses her. 

“ _You don’t know where I am_.” 

This saving grace is precisely the reason why she knows that she cannot be backed into some incommodious corner. Her humiliating submission cannot be _ **coerced**_. 

“ _I know that you’re hiding on an oceanic planet. Identical to the one that you imagined at night. Determining which one may take some time, but I will succeed_.” 

She's stunned into consummate quietude - a pregnant silence that petrifies her. Though harebrained foolishness did not delude her into assuming that he would be utterly incapable of making any progress, for him to have assimilated such useful information so quickly.....it dilutes buoyant sanguineness. This shocked apprehension corroborates his findings and she can feel the relief that he derives from gratuitous verification. 

“ _How do you know that?_ ” 

Coolly does he elevate a dark brow. 

“ _Now do you care to learn more about our bond?_ ” 

**Yes**. Yes, she does, but she cannot bring herself to express this explicitly. It's as if she's _**programmed**_ to resist him. 

“ _I want to know how you know that the planet I’m on is the same_.” 

He's simultaneously amused and exasperated by this lackluster response of hers. She does not doubt that he can sense the hubristic contentedness that his barefaced disgruntlement has inadvertently begotten within her. 

“ _Whether subconsciously or deliberately, we can share thoughts and images. Without meaning to, you project when you sleep. You instinctively lower your walls because you assume no one is there to see._ ” 

It does make sense. The natural response is to inquire about an effective remedy. Negligently forgetting the identity of the intellectual personage enlightening her, she hastily does so. 

“ _How do I stop?_ ” 

Sizable undercurrents of unadulterated bitterness accompany his aggrieved response. For some reason, he seems to enjoy slithering along the fringes of her involuted mind when restive slumber claims her. 

“ _Perhaps you should ask the hermit you’ve decided to learn from_.” 

Much too rapidly does she voice a dismissive protestation. The flagrant incivility conveyed when speaking of his senescent uncle is momentarily disregarded. Perspicacious as the aforementioned polymath certainly is, 'twould be exceedingly unwise to further disturb him with worrisome queries. 

“ _He has enough to worry about_.” 

This ensnares his interest instantaneously. He avidly latches onto her disinclination to converse with her chosen instructor about this significant matter. 

“ _Something more important than fully educating a student? You’re just reluctant to speak of this with him. Have you already tried?_ ” 

Nimble digits aimlessly toy with the coarse fabric of her ashen tunic as she fruitlessly delays the inevitable for a fleeting moment. She's about to wittingly bestow unto him something delicate - something that he could opportunistically hold over her if he wished to. 

“ _He suspects that something has happened_.” 

Realization dawns on and delights him with galling rapidity. Impenitent smugness envelops his blighted countenance as a knowing smirk appears. While this predictable reaction is sensed, a vivid image of his facial features as well as his tenebrous environment is intentionally slid her way. It evanesces a moment later. After she espies the jagged scar bisecting his mortal face, that is.

“ _He doesn't know, and you want to avoid bringing him that much closer to the truth_.” 

Fervent ire and prudent concern merge as she briefly elaborates. 

“ _He finds it challenging to trust others because of what you did. Sometimes, he compares me to you. If he were to find out that I’m exposed to you like this, he might refuse to continue training me_.” 

He truly cares not whether her solitary preceptor terminates her edifying apprenticeship and the reason why is blindingly clear. In fact, he finds it preferable and beneficial for it to betide prematurely rather than belatedly.

“ _You’ll never be satisfied if you deny your curiosity. Only I can give you the answers that you seek_. _He'll only continue to brainwash and hinder you. Under my tutelage, you would have unrestricted access to the Force. You would want for nothing._ ” 

As tempting as it may be, she knows that there is an ineluctable feeling of entrapment to be found in that beguiling illusion. He's an egregiously covetous and domineering being. Once something is in his steadfast grasp, it remains there perpetually or until its serviceability expires. Were she to provide assent, she would become his irrevocably and eternally.

" _The answer is still no. You'll have to keep looking for me_." 

A turbulent viciousness resurfaces within him. She can sense his impulsive desire to mercilessly deface the few pieces of inanimate decor around him. No, perhaps **deface** is too gentle a word. Barbarously obliterate beyond recognition seems much more appropriate. 

" _You know that I won't stop until I have you. Skywalker will be shown no mercy when my knights and I arrive at whatever hovel it is you've both taken up residence in. Soon enough, you'll realize that coming to me and surrendering is the better option_." 

There's an unmistakable possessiveness coating ambitious asseverations. It is escorted by a perfervid resolve that is unflagging and indomitable. She glowers at it with intense dissatisfaction. 

" _You'll **never** have me and we'll be prepared for our victory_." 

With that, she forcibly ejects him from her mind. His parting astonishment at this invaluable skill that she's been working tirelessly to develop is automatically felt. There is still ample room for improvement, but each unbidden visit of his fortuitously gifts her with an opportunity for growth. She knows that another will arise soon as there is no denying that he will return all too soon. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope that you all enjoyed! Thank you so much for giving this chapter a read. I still don't have a posting schedule established and I don't believe that that will change anytime soon. I can say that I plan to write from Kylo's POV for the next chapter and that it will be posted as soon as possible. Roleplaying on Tumblr, going to Disneyland often, and tending to offline obligations frequently keep me busy. As always, kind comments and kudos are deeply appreciated.


	3. Dubiety

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whoever decided that ignorance was bliss was clearly unfamiliar with the impatience of a warlord. The sleeping mind can become the catalyst of a confrontation with denial. Sometimes, that which is concealed can surface for others to see. All of these truths and more lie ahead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back with a brand new chapter from Kylo's POV this time! Thank you so much for the kudos that this little fic has been given so far. I really appreciate it. I recently attended D23 and I must say that Star Wars land looks like it's going to be a blast. They're trying to appeal to all generations. Hoping to see fellow Reylos there in 2019! Now, moving on to the fic stuff. As always, I don't own Star Wars or its respective elements ( ex. characters ). I'm simply a fellow fan who finds happiness in writing. Also, I figured I should toss this out there, but this story assumes that these characters are not connected by blood. While I respect the opinion and beliefs of others, I personally have never been and never will be a ReySky believer. With that, I hope that you enjoy this chapter!

His quarters illustrate impersonal austerity and cheerless solemnity. Save for fundamental pieces of decor - an expendable lamp and an uncluttered desk among other things, these secluded areas echo the fathomless hollowness that rejection has fostered within him. With a poisonous touch he had not originally suspected it to possess, **HER** rejection cuts deepest. It leaves him absolutely dissatisfied and more irate than usual. Perhaps it’s for the best that what few possessions he does keep are safely tucked away. His latest acquisition - a threadbare doll plucked from the sandy tides of that desolate planet she once inhabited - would not do well if faced with one of his ruinous outbursts, after all. Unpretentious and frangible, the inanimate object serves as a tangible reminder of the elusive prize that he presently seeks.

Ignorance and anguish clouded his already muddled vision when he sought to reclaim the rebellious girl after… _ **HIS** _ demise. An unnecessary tragedy in the eyes of the naive boy he’d once been. An utterly fruitless attempt at suffocating the infernal _ **LIGHT** _ and its seductive call in his eyes. Had he not been so….afflicted, he surely would have begun to realize the extent of the scavenger’s significance to him when he pursued her and her traitorous ally. Though he avidly longs for her acceptance of his tutelage, his desire is not so easily satiated. He craves her eternal companionship. Both neglected by irresponsible parents, they’re similar in countless ways. An invaluable opportunity for genuine comprehension clearly exists in her. Her acute loneliness speaks to him profoundly. He knows that should she just _ **yield**_ , he can placate it. Soothe it until she realizes that she and her remarkable capabilities will no longer go unvalued. Perhaps even show her how useful such despair can be should she find strength in her darkness.

A bittersweet complication, stubbornness is yet another quality that makes them kindred spirits. Just as he will not abjure this strenuous endeavor of his, she refuses to be persuaded easily. It’s why if anyone were to miraculously and imprudently trespass on his forbidding territory, they might think him to be brooding with a visible scowl glued to his face. Perpetually fervid, his eyes convey unappeased disgruntlement. Ominous and indecipherable, his mask lies forsaken upon his spacious bed. Knowing that she detests it - that she uses its glaring inhumanness to dehumanize _**him**_ , he prefers to avoid donning it when thinking of **HER**. When communicating with her as well, which is precisely what he is preparing to do. Those unwavering walls of her - psychological barriers meticulously constructed to prevent him from engaging her - have been subconsciously lowered. He imagines she’d be _**slightly**_ more skilled at keeping them active if she were to request guidance from the cowardly fool she calls her teacher. He has to remind himself that it is only a temporary arrangement. That soon enough, he’ll be educating and enlightening her as her instructor. Until then, her apparent inability to safeguard her unconscious mind is something for which he is ineffably grateful. For it allows him to bypass carefully crafted shields. It enables him to continue to nurture the very connection that she would sooner demolish. 

With lids lowering to obscure the unfathomable depths of his impassioned eyes, he centers himself and focuses on reaching out to her consciousness. Swiftly does he enter the serene dreamscape she's ventured to tonight. He's automatically met with expansive waters and lush verdure. The _**island**_. He fortuitously catches sight of what he believes to be a stout and diminutive creature cautiously peering out from behind a collection of haphazardly placed rocks, but his undivided attention is soon ensnared by the invasive end of an attenuated staff as it comes to hover before his face. A knowing smirk graces masculine features with its discernible presence as he's greeted with a most familiar sight. She's garbed in different attire and he thinks about how grey _**truly**_ suits her. Unbridled hostility becomes her visage as she snarls at him with a ferocity that is unbecoming of anyone striving to be a Jedi. A bleak future that isn't _**hers**_. " _ **You**_. You shouldn't be here." As he has deliberately intruded into her safehaven, he cannot disagree. "Yet, here I am." So mesmerizing as they're filled to the brim with unrefined emotion, those hazel eyes of hers are impatiently narrowed into a fiery glare. "So, what? I go a week without talking to you and you invade my dream?" Gloved fingers are pressed against the end of her treasured staff so that it can be moved, but she merely repositions it as if to maintain the distance that currently separates their metaphysical forms. Vexed by her insolence, he proceeds to adopt a matching glare of his own. "Nearly two, actually. I don't take well to being ignored." Quite the understatement it is that has departed from his lips, and it is brushed aside by a trenchant retort. "Get used to it." 

Briefly does he return his unfaltering gaze to their restful surroundings. Wherever it scurried away to, that plump creature he descried may very well turn out to be a significant clue. Unwittingly, it might have brought him that much closer to procuring the spirited warrior in his presence. His future _**apprentice**_. "I can see why this is an ideal spot for a coward to hide. Your island is vaguely familiar." He can perceive her prudential concern and the sense of urgency that accompanies it as she suddenly makes to attack him. A futile distraction as he merely pries it from her dexterous hands. Had she anticipated his unconventional response, he doubts that he could have done so. Certainly not with ease as her physical prowess is quite notable for someone whose constant state of living was that of desolate starvation. Squandering no time, he uncaringly tosses the quaint weapon toward oceanic tides. This is ultimately but a passing dream. She'll eventually wake to find her beloved staff wherever it is she last left it. Of course, sensibility escapes her as she promptly throws a callous punch at him. This foolhardy attempt at belligerence is thwarted as he effortlessly takes hold of her taut fist. To be prudent, he forcefully takes hold of her other extremity as well. "This is a dream. I have not arrived to fight you." She grits her teeth and he's immediately reminded of her ingrained aversion of the intimacy of touch. "Let go of me." For different reasons, they're both struggling against each other. For her, it's liberation. For him, it's the maintenance of dominance. "Not until I know that you can control yourself." 

After a fleeting second, she brusquely offers an indignant huff. One that is grudgingly accompanied by a solitary nod. Reluctantly, he releases her and only then does he find himself questioning the peculiar absence of her saber - technically, _**his**_. However, queries are not posed as he truly has no wish to initiate a fatuous skirmish. Though, he suspects she'll leave him no choice but to do so when it finally comes time for her to take her rightful place by his side. She _**will** _ fight, and she _**will**_ fail. He silently watches as she crosses her robust arms and takes several steps back. "What do you believe you're accomplishing by disturbing me so often?" He sees this as a chance to continue working on altering her flawed mindset. "If you would view matters differently, you would see disturbing you isn't my intention." A dry chuckle leaves her unpredictable lips. "When I tell you I _**don't** _ want this... _ **bond**_....to be used and you use it anyway, that isn't leaving me alone." He supposes he can see why she feels as if her wishes are being blatantly disregarded, but he also knows that she doesn't truly wish to be left _**alone**_. He can detect the feeling of intrigue that draws her to him - more than their special connection already does. Curiously, he cants his head. "Why don't you want it to be used?" The unfeigned discomfort that his query - an entirely _ **reasonable**_ one - brings her is obvious. Not only can he feel it through their unique bond, but he can observe it in the way that her gaze timorously darts away from his. "I just.. _ **don't**_." This lackluster reply only bolsters his interest and causes his brazen smirk to resurface. "An insufficient answer. I'm asking you for a legitimate reason." When she refuses to respond, he takes a single step in her direction. Those captivating eyes precipitously widen a fraction before narrowing once more into a noticeable glare, but it is a half hearted one this time. She resumes meeting his gaze. "I don't need you _**confusing** _ or _ **tempting** _ me. I don't want to _ **lose**_ myself." 

This tiny sliver of validation proves that persistent efforts have not been fruitless. He clings to it with a pitiful desperation. She's capable of doubting those she lionized - of realizing that even _ **legends** _ can be deceptive. "What if you _ **find** _ yourself? What if you're _ **blinding**_ yourself by clinging to misunderstandings?" Gracelessly, she tosses her arms up so as to convey a frustration that he can already perceive. "That's exactly what I mean." She doesn't wholly reject the notion of her current path being incorrect and that gladdens him immensely. It motivates him to take yet another step in her direction. "Just as I do, you know that the possibility exists. You know that there is a chance that you're denying yourself the growth that you deserve." Her stormy glare vanishes and there's suddenly unresolved conflict in her expressive eyes. Much to his surprise, she has not shied away from his steady approach. "If I do what you're suggesting and I'm _**wrong**_ , there's no going back. We both know that you'll do what you can to stop me from leaving." There's unambiguous resentment in her voice, but it does not inspire shame. It does not compel him to inveigle her into surrendering to his inextinguishable desires. He promised her he would be truthful and he will remain faithful to that oath. "I will, but you won't have a reason to leave. You won't be wrong." He takes several more steps until they're mere inches apart. He can see how tempted she is to flee, but she remains perfectly still. "I don't want to become some puppet for a murderous creature to manipulate. You're proof enough of what he can do." These bitter words slice at him, but her worry is not baseless. Although his master is a shrewd intellectual, he is neither clement nor warmhearted. However, he's already decided not to allow her to fall under the totalitarian's pervasive influence. She is _**his**_ and his alone. No one and nothing will make that untrue. "You won't." 

She falls silent and he eagerly assumes she's on the cusp of acceptance, but he knows better than to jeopardize the substantial amount of progress that has been made thus far. "Won't you consider it? I would prefer for you to come willingly." With furrowed brows, she brings up the one dilemma that he cannot resolve with the mere utterance of guileless words. "My friends. You would have me separated from them." He briefly assesses their tranquil surroundings once more as he contemplates her forthright accusation. "Have you spoken to any of them while you've been hiding out here? I can't imagine Skywalker allowing a student to travel between planets as she pleases." She bristles at this and he knows that this uncompromising need to maintain secrecy unnerves her. "I wasn't planning on staying forever." Her dismissive answer allows him to string together an appealing response. One that is devoid of duplicity. "If you were to come willingly, there would be no need for you to be kept in one place. You would be able to travel to any planet you took interest in." Once again, it seems as if he's effectively rendered her speechless as she says nothing at all. "Take some time to think about what we've discussed, but know that it won't be long until I discover your location. Time is of the essence, Rey. You'll have one more opportunity to decide for yourself. After that, I will do what I must." Without thinking, two of his gloved fingers tuck a wayward strand of umber hair behind her left ear before he purposefully retreats from her mind. 

With the inevitable opening of his eyes, comes the inexorable return of his dingy domain and its inherent solitude. However, an unobtrusive smile of satisfaction contentedly rests upon his lips. Not a pompous smirk, but a genuine _**smile**_. Though he cannot claim credit for having sewn the seeds of uncertainty, he can say that he's properly nourished them. He's left her with much to reflect on and he almost feels certain of her voluntary acquiescence. Besides, that seemingly benign creature that he saw could very well be the invaluable clue that he's been searching for. With thorough research, he may be able to unearth a destination in a matter of days. It won't be long now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! As always, kind comments and kudos are appreciated. I have no idea when the next chapter will be posted, but it will be posted as soon as possible. Please, come visit me on Tumblr at rainistender! I'm accepting prompts/fic requests.


	4. Burnt Bridges

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Uneasiness leads to desperate measures as attempts at evading unsavory scenarios are made. Finally, the inevitable arrives at the doorstep of resistance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello and welcome to a brand new chapter of my humble creation. This week's chapter is a little bit shorter than the last since I wanted to break things up. Expect the next one to contain action. I also ended up deciding to make this fic longer than I originally anticipated and expand on it much more. While I originally wanted these to just be late night discussions and such conversations will still be present throughout the fic, I decided that I actually want to include more. Certain ideas came to mind and I'm excited to see them through. So, that's just a head's up. I also have another fic idea in the works. So, expect the first chapter at some point this month. As always, I own neither the Star Wars Universe nor the various elements that exist in it ( ex. characters, settings, etc. ). I am simply a fellow fan who finds enjoyment in creative writing. I hope that you enjoy!

Agitation and apprehension make tempestuous her mettlesome heart. She’s quite irritated by his perspicuity - a rather capricious thing considering his inability to discern the wrongness of certain misdeeds of his. He’s closing in with alarming speed and it only exacerbates the inexhaustible restiveness that already resides within her. She’s halfway tempted to abscond with the historic saber that she’s acquired and venture to a remote planet. Somewhere completely devoid of fellow sentients as the purpose of departing from the aqueous safehaven that her chosen mentor has sequestered himself on is that of conscientiously ensuring that needless destruction does not occur. 

However, she knows that an effective solution would not be found in flight. He acts with an insurmountable tenacity and his preternatural prowess is formidable. Inevitably, whether she’s ready or not, he _**will**_ find her. No stone will be left unturned in his zealous pursuit of her and she _**knows**_ that he believes fruitful results will ultimately be produced. Although she possesses a persistence of her own that is unflinching, there’s a treacherous voice within her that whispers perturbing doubts to her. Whereas she is a fledgling learning to master newfound aptitudes, he has _**years**_ of rigorous education to speak of. Her momentous conquest in that gelid forest did not foster temerarious vainglory. Just because she bested him that fateful night on Starkiller, does not guarantee absolute victory for all subsequent matches. Though from pain he gleaned strength, he was unarguably _ **wounded**_. When next they cross paths, he'll doubtlessly have the invaluable advantage of full strength. 

She might as well remain here. After all, she’ll at least be fighting alongside a sagacious legend. Two individuals together stand a better chance than one alone. Though, she has found herself contemplating the disconcerting potentiality of her mentor being even more so afflicted by the inner turmoil that plagues him because of his wayward nephew's descent into darkness. The youthful girl who lionized this haunted elder feels compelled to demonstrate an unshrinking ferocity in defending him from the mercurial malevolence that his kinsman possesses. To delay that unavoidable reunion by distancing herself from this scenic planet, but again..she knows that she'll not last long on her own. Besides, perhaps he will not succumb to his sentimental conflict. Perhaps he'll triumphantly overcome it and do what he believes to be appropriate - fitting - in dealing with the dark knight. Still, even though she truly hopes that this will prove itself to be true, there is no contentment to be found in accepting it as a legitimate resolution. In betting on fragile hope alone.

There must be something else....some **other** way....

It comes to her with incredible speed while she's comfortably seated upon a sizable rock. While the winsome porgs of this austere safehaven actively move about in order to tend to their obligations, she remains deep in meditation. Though _**he’s**_ assured her of his intention to refrain from practicing deceit around her and he's unarguably informed her of their connection’s inseverability, should mere words be sufficient in dissuading her from at least making an attempt? 

No, of course not. A severe lack of comprehension will make impossible preciseness, but she reaches out - psychologically - and does what she believes to be the equivalent of ripping herself from him. One at a time, she imagines herself unlatching his invasive tendrils of darkness from her lighter ones. It seems to work, because a barbaric roar tears through her mind without warning. Raw and unconstrained, she can sense his trepidation. His _ **fury**_. He's both livid _**and**_ fearful. _“What do you think you’re doing?”_ Though she persists in endeavoring to dismantle this unsought link, she entertains his unconcealed curiosity with a feral snarl upon her lips. Why not grant him this _**final** _ moment of contact? Why not take a quick moment to _**savor**_ her victory?

_ “I’m doing what should have been done **ages** ago.”  _

_ "You’ll deal damage to both of us." _

That successfully causes her to halt. Abruptly, at that. Closed eyes snap open with unknown expedition. As fascinating and intriguing as she finds this convoluted enigma to which she's presently connected, the ire that his reprehensible misdeeds have left her with fuels a part of her that would not be entirely averse to injuring him. If the price of her lasting freedom is his momentary suffering, she'll pay it. However, to be injured herself? To what _**extent**_?

_ “What are you talking about?”  _

_ “I told you that this bond was inseverable. If you do what you’re attempting to do, there will be consequences for us both. The will of the Force is not easily denied.” _

_ “What consequences?”  _

_ “You and I will always feel incomplete. We’ll both be burdened by an eternal longing. Is that really what you want?”  _

Who would? To be forever denied a feeling of wholeness. To be perpetually tormented by an incurable dissatisfaction. For that abiding lonesomeness of hers to become immutably unappeasable. It’s a tortuous _**nightmare**_. It is an exorbitant price that _**cannot**_ be paid. Though she does not answer him directly, the few words that are sent forth betray her reluctance to sever their bond.

_  “I won’t be taken prisoner.”  _

_ “Have we not already discussed this? I don’t seek a prisoner. You would be more than that.”  _

_ “You intend to take me regardless of my wishes. You see nothing wrong with robbing me of my freedom. Does that not sound like the life of a prisoner?” _

_ “I told you I would rather you come willingly.”  _

_ “But you’ll take me if I refuse.” _

There’s a prolonged pause and his struggle to furnish her with a suitable response is extraordinarily palpable. She knows she’s right; he knows she’s right. This is absolutely undebatable and he cannot escape it. 

_ “The Force demands it.” _

_ “No, **you** demand it.“ _

_ “I won’t deny that I agree with the Force, but your ignorance blinds you if you believe that it is my wish alone.”  _

Progress in this regard will not be made right now. Both are far too stubborn to yield and her patience does not exist without its limits. She refuses to have her life planned for her - to volitionally surrender the autonomy that she’s clung to so tirelessly for the past number of years. She tries to reason with him - to appeal to whatever semblance of rationality it is that might linger in him.

_ “We don’t have to be together. We can exist apart.”  _

_ “No, I know you feel it. Your curiosity betrays you.”  _

_ “You know nothing.”  _

_ “We both know how untrue that is.” _

He’s right and neither of them are unaware of nor ignorant to it. Although she is incapable of admitting it aloud, this rapacious personage knows her better than most. Certainly more intimately than most. A shallow sigh escapes from her nude lips. Though she tries to remove the shakiness from it, her attempts are not as fruitful s as she'd like for them to be and she just knows that he's perceived its precipitous departure.

_ “Is there nothing I can say to convince you to leave me alone?”  _

_ “No, and I require an answer now. Will you be the cause of Skywalker’s imprisonment? Or will you spare yourself an unnecessary struggle?”  _

_ “Neither. Luke and I won’t be captured.”  _

There’s an audible sigh of exasperation on his end of the bond. He finds her recalcitrance nettlesome and fails to comprehend her unwillingness to acquiesce. His intransigence is evidenced by his continuation of earnest entreatment. 

_ “Do you truly wish to continue denying yourself the answers that you deserve? Do you truly wish to be held back by a **coward**?”  _

_ “I refuse to serve a **murderer**.”  _

_ “We would be equals if you would comply.”  _

Although she’s given up on obliterating their accursed bond - on tarnishing it beyond repair, she will not grant him the compliance that he tenderly speaks of. With an unyielding firmness, she wisely declines.

_ “No. You already know what my answer is.”  _

_ “So be it. You will remember this moment. You were given a choice, Rey. You cannot tell me otherwise.”  _

She is loath to admit that his deliberate usage of her name affects her indescribably. She suppresses this foreign feeling seconds before her dissentious response inexorably arrives.

_ “I’ll be long gone by the time you arrive.” _

He emits an ominous chuckle that deeply unnerves her. It’s as if he’s aware of some significant truth that skillfully eludes her. A chill swiftly travels down her spine as she assumes a standing position. She can sense his unconstrained smugness. He really is quite the arrogant prick. 

_ “I doubt that.”  _

_ “Why?” _

_ “I’m already here.”   _

This disconcerting answer is accompanied by an equally perturbing sight. A duo of sleek ships disturbing the tranquility of the aquatic planet from their place against the murky sky above. He's actually  **here** and he is not without troublesome company.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that you all enjoyed. Thank you so much for taking the time to read. As always, kind comments and kudos are deeply appreciated. I can be found on Tumblr at rainistender. Please come visit! I'm always accepting prompts. I don't know when next I'll update, because life can get busy. However, I will try to have it up as soon as possible.


	5. Unexpected

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even the most meticulously crafted of plans can crumble due to ungovernable factors. Sometimes, people accomplish things for reasons other than those that originally motivated them. In this chapter, these truths and more become apparent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Later than expected, I'm back with another chapter. I apologize for the delayed update. Life kept me busier than expected. As always, I own neither the Star Wars universe nor its elements ( ex. characters ). I'm simply an enthusiastic fan who loves to write. I hope that you all enjoy!

Although arduous years of scavenging have bestowed unto her an unparalleled vigor, there’s something particularly stimulating about this race across the sequestered island. She supposes it’s the glaring consequentiality of it - the looming knowledge that the inevitable confrontation could very well prove to be unimaginably inauspicious. The rapidity of each move could either decrease the distance between her and an undesirable fate or enable her to ensure that a more gratifying outcome emerges from the oncoming storm of chaos. Although she truly believes herself to be more of an optimistic realist than a hopeless pessimist, she’ll not purposefully delude herself into believing that victory will _**undoubtedly**_ be grasped by her dexterous hands. She cannot deceive herself with the transparent falsity that is the impeccable ease of conquest in the face of adversity. She cannot _**underestimate**_ someone who has successfully proven himself to be quite the redoubtable foe, and she absolutely cannot presume to comprehend the competency of his subordinates when she has yet to clash with them. Such thoughts keep the juvenescent lionheart company whilst she watches those minuscule yet discernible specks of obsidian evolve into lustrous ships. Similarly, her apprehension grows.

With the Skywalker lightsaber - the very one that has inexplicably selected her to be its newest bearer - in hand, she finally reaches her contemplative instructor. Although the customary wisdom - a product of witnessing too much strife and of emerging scathed from transformative experiences - still houses itself within his haunted eyes, they look older than usual. _ **Impossibly**_ so, but the change does not baffle her. He’s already sensed the arrival of his wayward nephew - her _**unsought** _ bondmate.  He’s anticipated this unavoidable reunion for quite some time. A preternatural tug within alerts her to the steady approach of that particular turncoat. Her vigilant eyes shift from the senescent features of the enigmatic legend to the obscured visage of his younger kinsman. With his masked knights faithfully following behind, the involuted conundrum marches in their direction until he comes to an abrupt halt several feet away. For several minutes or perhaps entire hours - time has a funny way of working during extraordinarily significant moments like the one at hand, no one speaks. She remains a couple of paces behind her somber mentor, who eventually breaks the _**uncomfortable**_ silence.

“Ben.”

Just like that, she can feel _**his**_ anger flare. It hardly surprises her. 

“I forsook that name when I awoke to the truth behind your lies.” 

What _**does** _ astonish her is how lost the destructive Force user looks. No, that’s incorrect. He doesn’t _ **look**_ lost. He _ **feels**_ lost. Like a disillusioned child who realized that expectations can catastrophically collapse and fall to pieces under the crushing weight of reality.

“I always assumed my only goal would be imprisoning you. Seeing to it that no new tales of the Jedi could be spun.” 

The tiny hairs on the back of her exposed neck promptly rise as his fervid gaze abandons his former teacher in favor of consuming her. Even if she understands its purpose, she wholeheartedly abhors that grotesque mask. In fact, it feels a bit jarring to be reunited with the masked creature who absconded with her in the lush forests of Takodana as opposed to the conflicted being who was left for dead on an ivory bed of snow. Or the metaphysical form she encountered in her dreamscape. 

“I’m here for the girl. Conscious or otherwise, she _**will** _ be coming with me.”

Impetuously, she glances away from this ambitious intruder. The disappointment that this seemingly inconsequential decision brings him is much too palpable for her liking. As she already knows, he gleans authentic contentment from her unequivocal enthrallment. 

“She came to me for help. From what I’ve heard, she denied your offer. What do you hope to accomplish by taking an unwilling student? Did destroying my school fail to satisfy your desire for vengeance?” 

A humorless laugh brusquely leaves his lips. It sounds absurdly inhuman because of that infernal modulator. 

“Always placing undue importance on yourself. My business with her has nothing to do with you, Skywalker. What your student failed to tell you is that we formed a connection through the Force.” 

With her secret unveiled, an entrenched fear of rejection resurfaces. She wonders if the elder of the two relatives will mistrust and despise her for her willingness to shroud important information. For her now blindingly _**obvious**_ reluctance to trust him with her struggles and concerns. 

“A Force bond. I suspected it, but refused to allow myself to believe. She doesn’t deserve the turmoil that you’ve already brought into her life. For the turmoil that you’ll only _**continue**_ to expose her to.“ 

Wholly unfeigned endearment and relief flood her veins as the concern that she’s earned manifests itself in the form of protective words. She’s grateful for his guileless care. Mere words cannot describe the extent to which this is true.

“Enough of this. As I said, I have no intention of leaving without her. I offered her a reasonable trade. Her willing surrender in exchange for your continued isolation. She _ **refused**_. A foolish mistake made out of selfishness and fear. Regardless, both of you will be coming.” 

She wonders if he’s _ **deliberately**_ attempting to create a gaping rift between her and her chosen teacher. After all, how much easier might it make his avid pursuit of her entire being? She knows that he seeks to inspire abiding trust within her, and she can see how this particular method might be used to fulfill such a goal.

“She made the right choice. She has much to live for - much to see. I would not expect her to trade her life for mine.” 

With that, he impatiently motions for his idle underlings to initiate the unavoidable. They obediently spring into action…to solely assail the last of the surviving Jedi. They come charging with an assortment of weapons at their disposal - all effective against the Force. A familiar hum ensnares her and she’s met with the disquieting sight of what could either be a replica of the unconventional lightsaber he once plunged right into the chest of his unsuspecting father or a repaired version of it. He only has eyes for her as she swiftly responds in a similar fashion.

In response, a luminous beam emerges from the burnished hilt of her invaluable weapon. He steps around the skirmish between his duteous knights and his preoccupied uncle as she takes several steps back. As with most - if not all - things, she’s quick to take notice of the restraint that he consciously demonstrates in approaching. He’s not truly engaging her in a fight - halfhearted or otherwise - and he seems to have no genuine wish to. No, his true aim is distancing the two of them from the clash occurring behind him - herding her away from beneficial assistance. It both perturbs and vexes her. The latter of the two contrasting emotions compels her to strike with the intention of preventing herself from losing further ground, but he blocks with an anticipated ease. As he proceeds to isolate them, the surrounding area grows quieter. 

“I’m not here to fight you.” 

The ridiculous statement inadvertently solicits an unceremonious scoff from her brazen lips. Perhaps the truculent meeting of scarlet and azure is not what he craves, but he certainly should have predicted it. For although there is an interminable part of her that finds enticing the notion of accompanying this convoluted riddle and properly demystifying him, she _**cannot** _ allow herself to yield to it. Definitely not ungrudgingly.

“Then, your ability to plan needs improvement. Did you actually think I would just take your hand and join you?”  

She doesn’t glean pleasure from injuring him and she can tell that her query does indeed slice at him. His pain automatically becomes her own. A surreal feeling that she’s nearly grown accustomed to at this point. For a fleeting moment, he deactivates his menacing saber. Long enough for him to discard the emotionless mask ( an obvious replacement for the one lost on Starkiller ). She isn’t prepared to see his blighted countenance - to descry those impassioned eyes of his, but both greet her regardless. How a single individual - a mortal - can carry so much emotion never ceases to confound her.  

“All of this is unnecessary..and pointless. We both know that you feel it too. The tug that constantly pulls at you. It tempts you to leave. You feel it even now, do you not?” 

She sidesteps his query with a forceful statement. 

“What I feel is none of your concern.” 

 "It is. The will of the Force makes it so.“ 

With an audible thump, his sheeny helmet collides with the solid ground below after a brief descent. Without even the slightest bit of hesitation in his step, he proceeds to walk in her direction. His saber is effortlessly reignited, but not for the sake of attacking. Much like their last match, he’s preparing himself for the considerable possibility of her doing so instead. 

"Come with me and all of this will be over.” 

As she resumes her retreat, she quickly becomes aware of the unsolicited presence of familiar tendrils at the edge of her consciousness. Gently do they seek to coax her into surrendering to stillness. However, she banishes them with haste - rejects his dangerous suggestion with an unfaltering resolve. 

“You’re learning.” 

“I’ve been doing more than lifting rocks and meditating.” 

Her honest and intrepid response instigates the formation of a conspicuous smirk conveying amusement upon his expressive visage.

“Not enough to keep you satisfied. You’ll find that I can be more helpful.” 

The distinguishable sound of crashing waves reacquaints itself with her attentive ears and an idea - one that arouses an appreciable amount of unease - occurs to her. Her steps become less aimless; more purposive as she guides him toward the steepest cliff. She deliberately makes a jumbled mess of her thoughts so that he cannot deftly pluck her newfound plan from her mind should he grow suspicious. Aiming for his right shoulder, she strikes once again only for him to block once again. It must look as if all of this is coincidental. It must look as if a plan is not being formulated until she reaches her intended destination. It takes but a short while for her otherwise uneventful journey to conclude, and a more rational part of her begins to remind her of the potential lethality of this brazen scheme. On the precipice of untold peril, she allows herself to glance at the sweeping expanse of deep blue for but a moment.

Children of the sand were never meant to be children of the sea. The ability to navigate liquid tides - to stay afloat and not be devoured whole - was never supposed to be theirs to possess. It was but a distant dream - an unknowable luxury behind the natural fear of unfamiliarity. If she falls, she’ll surely succumb to an aquatic demise. Their gazes meet once more and she just knows that he can see the gears actively turning within her shrewd mind. Just as she begins to deactivate her lightsaber, an unbridled desperation clouds the tempestuous depths of his fathomless eyes. Before she can proceed with her parlous plan, her vibrant world unexpectedly goes dark. This feeling is eerily familiar, and she realizes that she’s experienced it once before…..during their initial meeting. Consciousness traitorously escapes her as she faintly feels herself falling into his awaiting arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading. I hope that you all enjoyed. As always, kudos and kind comments / reviews are appreciated. Please visit me on Tumblr at rainistender. I'm always accepting prompts. I hope to have the next chapter up in the near future since I should have some time on my hands.


	6. Divergence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The foundation upon which we stand can become unrecognizable in the blink of an eye. Shaken, it forces us to rebuild elsewhere - on foreign territory. We may make the unlikeliest of decisions in the process. In this chapter, such truths surface.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back sooner than expected with a new chapter! As always, I own neither Star Wars nor its various elements ( ex. characters ). I am simply a creative fan who greatly enjoys creative writing. For this chapter, we're back with Rey's POV, but I plan on switching to Kylo's for the next chapter. I hope that you'll read and enjoy this latest part of this tale.

It is neither a potent scent nor a commanding voice that lures her back to the waking world, but a distinguishable sound instead. The steady trickling of water, but in what form she currently knows not. After realizing that she is in a horizontal position - quite the peculiar detail, she demonstrates impeccable haste in assuming a seated position instead. There's lethargy in her movements, but not as much as one would expect there to be. A quizzical tilt of her head accompanies the rapid blinking of hazel eyes as consciousness fully returns to her. Although unfamiliar objects such as ivory furniture and the source of that bittersweet sound - a decorative fountain no larger than the size of her head - acquaint themselves with her range of sight, impenetrable confusion is _ **blinding**_.

Where exactly is she? How could someone be so wasteful? How could they treat an invaluable gift as if every living being had unrestricted access to it? The glaring foreignity of her surroundings begins to disconcert her as fuzzy fragments of time are meticulously strung together. Inhospitable waters, contrasting sabers, and masculine features abruptly resurface. Of course, her time of freedom  _ **expired**_. An inauspicious fate - one that might have been preordained - finally caught up with her.

Soon enough - mere minutes after she's confirmed that she remains safely garbed in the attire she donned before her unnatural slumber commenced, the presence of familiar tendrils at the outer rim of her consciousness is detected. As they become more tangible, she realizes that he's en route to her current whereabouts. Although tempted to take hold of the nearby lamp - unostentatious yet operative no doubt - and feistily assail him with it, she knows that launching a surprise attack now would be quite unwise. So, she preoccupies herself with assuming a standing position instead. He will most certainly _**not** _ bear witness to her indisposed state.

Finally, the obsidian door before her abruptly slides open to reveal the masked enigma, but he quickly discards his featureless helm. It is promptly set upon the ivory table that can be found in the habitable room. While this is not her first time espying the jagged scar bisecting his alabaster visage, the unsightly scene is no less striking. As the door shuts behind his heavily garmented form, her gaze falls to the ravenous vortexes that are his eyes. An unappeased ire simmers just beneath the surface of those tenebrous pools. He’s barely containing his fury - an accidental creation of her noncompliance. Although she remains consciously aware of the sizzling sentiment, she does not enable it to strike fear into her heart. Innumerable queries conceived by her involuntary transition simultaneously beseech her to pose them, but only one can take the lead. 

“Where is it?”

“I assume you’re referring to the Skywalker lightsaber. My birthright is where it _**belongs**_. Allowing it to remain in your care while here would be a careless mistake.”

Of that - the sheer imprudence of refraining from divesting her of its comforting companionship, they are in agreement. For she would have undeniably utilized it to liberate herself from this gilded cage that she’s unexpectedly found herself in. Still, such reasoning does nothing to soothe the umbrage begotten by its absence. She cannot help but maliciously sneer at him. 

“It was _**mine**_. It called to me.” 

A mirthful smile briefly tugs at the right corner of his eloquent lips. It doesn’t match that raging fire in his fathomless eyes, and its incongruous presence unsettles her. Fortunately, it vanishes rapidly and his voice adopts a rather **accusatory** tone. A single step is taken in her direction, but she brazenly stands her ground.

“You say that as if you’re actually  _ **opposed** _ to theft. The chance to explore this connection was given to me by the Force and _ **you**_ were about to take it from me forever.”

Unwelcome and unconcealed, guilt consumes her viridescent eyes as she glances away. She knows that the bond is ultimately no more hers to do with than it is his. It is a matter of mutual ownership. If fairness were to be honored, severing it would have to be a decision to which he wittingly consented. However, despite her own repressed interest in remaining with him, she feels compelled to resist its tempting influence. Although she was prepared for an irrevocable demise, it is ultimately not such a lethal fate that she would have been pursuing by leaping from that steep cliff. Merely distance, because their close proximity incessantly threatens to devour her whole. She doesn’t rectify his misconception of her avoided descent, however. Even though she can sense that that unforgettable moment incensed, dispirited, and petrified him simultaneously. 

“What about my blaster?”

“Being stored in a safe place.”

“Safe for you and your fellow tyrants, you mean.”

As if tired of her incisive wit, he almost imperceptibly releases a sigh of pure dissatisfaction. As it is, he mistakenly believes those with whom she's aligned herself to be the chaotic tyrants. 

“I don’t care for pointless conflict. We both know that your blaster would merely be an annoyance. It may wound stormtroopers, but it would be useless against me.”

Again, she cannot disagree. Nevertheless, its faithful presence is longed for. Knowing that he cannot be swayed - that his decision will not be revoked, she proceeds to inquire about her compassionate instructor. From the endearing porgs to the stern anchoresses, she knows that the other inhabitants of the secluded island were mercifully left untouched. She doesn't know _**how**_ this knowledge has come to exist among the other verities and certainties that occupy her shrewd mind, but it _ **has**_.  

“Where is Luke?”

“Being detained. His fate has yet to be decided.”

This response is unarguably worrisome. After all, was it not her obstinate refusal of this very scenario that instigated his capture? Although she would not have been able to elude the insatiable greed of this corporeal paradox for long, she could have at least _**stalled**_ the discovery of the surviving Jedi. Because of her entrenched aversion to perpetual loneliness, she has failed herself as well as the Resistance in its entirety. The weight of this singular decision is unlike anything that she's ever experienced before, but she cannot allow it to enfeeble her. So, with a resuscitated resolve, she resettles her unfaltering gaze on the taller individual.

“Where am I?”

Once more, that amused smile returns as the lividity that smolders within his fervid eyes wanes. As if to tenderly brush his gloved fingers along her jaw, he slowly lifts his right hand. Before contact can be made - before she can attempt to evade his physical touch, he lowers it as if unsure of himself. She can sense his inner turmoil. While he ardently yearns for the experience of making contact - be it through the serene entwining of fingers or through the intimate caressing of her cheek, he has no wish to frighten her. More than anything in this expansive galaxy, he inexhaustibly desires her unconditional acceptance. 

“Does the physical location matter?”

He finds the obvious irony much more humorous than she does. Even though he does not emit audible laughter, she is absolutely _**certain**_ of it. Surely he does not expect her to find it entertaining given her current predicament.   

“How long do you expect this to last?”

“You already know the answer to that.”

“I’ll leave.”

“I’ll find you and bring you back every time. You know I will.”

Unswerving and unassailable is the conviction bolstering his avowal. How perfectly clear it is that his intransigence is indefatigable. Silently does she wonder if he knows that despite his conscious efforts, this unyielding determination - this unconcealed _**willingness** _ to deprive her of her autonomy - _**perturbs**_ her. Though she would never admit it aloud, his keen interest in her itself is not _**entirely**_ objectionable. This possessiveness, on the other hand, _ **is**_. 

“What about my friends? I’m not just going to abandon them for this.”

He takes another step in her direction and this time, she takes one back. The genuine disappointment that her purposive retreat kindles within him is extraordinarily palpable. For one traitorous moment, she wonders what it would be like to cave - if only for a minute. If they feel drawn to each other like this, surely indulging this esoteric connection would produce an innocuous result. Perhaps even one that might allow her to savor unfeigned satisfaction. One that might enable her to glean relief from the foreseeable evaporation of looming tension. For the distance that she has fought so hard to place between them prevents her from finding abiding tranquility. For as long as she spurns him, she can neither find lasting peace with nor without him. Although inconspicuous, the brief widening of his eyes makes it known that he's at least discerned _**traces** _ of her aberrant thoughts.  

“They barely know you. Can you be so sure that mere acquaintances aren’t just using you? Can you be absolutely certain of the sincerity behind their kindness?"

It wouldn't be the first time that her benevolence and altruism have been exploited. It is precisely because of this that as philanthropic and accomodating as those affiliated with the Resistance certainly seem, vociferous doubts linger. Still, she cannot allow them to become noticeable. She does not wish for him to intentionally exacerbate them. So, with grace, she laces vehemence between coherent words.

“Had I wished to leave, they would have allowed it. They saved a former stormtrooper without demanding a thing.”

If this gallant act does not bespeak solicitous magnanimity, she knows not what does. It seems utterly impossible to refute such ungrudging benignity, but his rebuttal arrives with uninhibited expedition. It immediately takes her aback and reaffirms his resolve to discompose her faith.

“Perhaps they knew that saving him would keep an inexperienced Force user - one capable of being manipulated for their purposes - on their side. You gave them exactly what they wanted without being asked.”

So accustomed to being neglected and misused, she simply cannot see this as a preposterous impossibility. He's nourishing the incertitude that seemingly ineradicable diffidence has fostered within her. Oh, how she _**loathes**_ it. 

“You’re _**wrong**_.”

He subtly tils his head - a distinguishing habit of his - as he considers her unambiguous protest.  

“I could be, but I could also be right and you’re without a means of disproving that.” 

“I can ask them.”

Unadulterated optimism fuels her now. A fragile thing, she safeguards it fiercely. It's far too precious to be mishandled. His head reassumes its typical position, but he continues to scrutinize her countenance.

“You believe them to be incapable of lying - of obscuring the truth. You’re too naive. Did your revered teacher and his sister fail to mention that they did exactly that before me? A member of their own bloodline there to be deceived. What could possibly stop them from doing so to a stranger?”

Like a dwindling flame extinguished abruptly, her hope suddenly finds itself withering. Capriciously flickering in and out of existence as if on the verge of absolute eradication. For this is a query that she's struggled with ever since she first became acquainted with General Organa. To hear someone else pose it is discomforting. So much importance is placed on this baleful turncoat that it causes her to doubt her valuability in the eyes of his forsaken kinsfolk. Stepping back until the backsides of her knees collide with the spacious mattress behind her, she indignantly crosses her arms.

“I’m not interested in discussing this with you further.”

He approaches until he's but two feet away. Naturally, with no alternatives available to turn to, she remains still. 

“We’re not done. You need to see that they cannot be trusted. _**I**_ am the only one who will tell you nothing but the truth." 

"You'll share any beliefs you _ **think** _ are facts."

"You'll find that _**most** _ of my beliefs are defensible - _**justifiable**_."

An unflattering snort is solicited by his vexatious claim. Clearly, whatever semblance of logic it is that has accompanied him thus far has cast him aside. His grip on reality has successfully proven itself to be _**egregiously**_ loose. 

"I doubt that. Patricide is wrong on all accounts, but you can try and fail to convince me some other time. If you really intend to keep me here, we'll have more than enough time to have plenty of disagreements."

Her barefaced skepticism and the flagrant insolence that comes with it displease him. A part of her truly enjoys these necessary disputes as they sharpen her mind, but she sometimes wishes that they did not leave her so riled. She does not like that he possesses the ability to get under her skin with such ease.

"I don't wish to fight you all of the time."

"Really? Then why are you here? Did you come to gloat?"

Perhaps provide enlightenment - resolve any confusion that his premeditated acquisition of her might have engendered. 

"I came to discuss your future."

Visibly perplexed by such an unexpected and unpretentious answer, she furrows her umber brows. 

"What about it? It seems straightforward enough to me. You plan on keeping me confined to this cage until you deem it appropriate for me to come out. If that time ever comes. I'll escape you before then, of course. You'll find me, and the cycle will repeat itself until I become capable of overpowering you on your best of days or until the Resistance backs you into a corner. Whichever comes first."

The rightmost corner of his lips impulsively twitches downward as his resentment is conveyed. For an evanescent moment, the towering warlord glowers at her. 

"I have a proposition for you. Allow me to train you and help me defeat the Supreme Leader. Agree, and I will see to it that Skywalker lives."

Thoughtlessly, the youthful lionheart takes a seat on the awaiting mattress with its lush sheets and unkempt duvet. More like _**falls**_ onto it as her expressive eyes widen in unalloyed astonishment, really. The precariousness of this farcical plan is as incomparable as it is grievous. He takes this moment of distractedness to lessen the distance between them to a single foot, but she hardly notices as she cradles her head in her dexterous hands. 

"You're mad. Absolutely _**insane**_ if you believe the two of us can accomplish that on our own. Say we were to succeed, what then? Would you let me walk away? Would you return to your family?"

With unbridled inquisitiveness illuminating hazel pools, she peers up at him. By then, she would theoretically have enough training under her belt to ensure that he could not preclude her from leaving him.....from _**deserting**_ him. She _**really** _ doesn't enjoy thinking of it in such a treacherous manner. After all, did inexplicable abandonment not leave her heart aching? Regardless of his unpardonable transgressions, would she not be deliberately subjecting someone else to a similarly pernicious fate? Even though she stubbornly tells herself that she was conscientiously hidden as opposed to callously abandoned, uncertainty leaves ample room for doubt.

"I never said anything of the sort. The title will become mine and I will do what is needed of me to bring order to the galaxy. You will remain with me."

What he suggests is appropriating authority - deposing his tyrannical superior just for him to assume the throne, and she cannot offer her unequivocal compliance. Especially not when she believes the galaxy would crumble beneath his rule. Still, while she is opposed to him elevating himself in such a fashion, she knows that the despotic autocrat must be conquered. He must be eliminated. Although she believes that the beneficial assistance of her _**chosen**_ mentor will eventually be required, that matter need not be resolved this instant. As long as his continued survival is made an actuality, there will be time to address it later. After what feels like hours but is most likely a solid seven minutes, she tentatively nods her head.

"I agree, but only to allowing you to train me and aiding you in overthrowing your leader. If you want more than that, you'll have to fight for it and I can promise you victory won't be yours."

 Equally pleased with and amused by her audacious response, he allows a discernible smirk to tease his lips. 

"We'll see."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've made it this far, thank you so much. I really appreciate it. As always, kind comments / reviews and kudos are greatly appreciated. I'm actually not sure when I'm going to update again. I'm sure it won't be much longer than usual, but I've just been feeling disenchanted with the Reylo community lately that it kind of...demotivated me. I got into it because it seemed like a welcoming and inclusive community at first, but now it's kind of starting to seem as if anyone who isn't 'famous' in the community is brushed aside. So, I've been feeling quite underwhelmed as of late. I'm not sure what to do, but I did know that I wanted to get this chapter posted while I had a moment of inspiration. I may just start writing when I feel like it as opposed to trying to update as frequently as possible. Nevertheless, I can be found on Tumblr at rainistender. Prompts and friendly messages are always welcome!


	7. Details

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Progress is measured not by the degree to which change is visible, but by its form and the natures of those involved. Sometimes, that which goes unsaid can reveal more than that which is said. These two truths and more become evident in this chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back with another chapter since inspiration struck today. It's so much fun when ideas spring forth easily and you're able to just let the words flow. Those moments are truly pleasing. As always, I own neither Star Wars nor its elements ( ex. characters, settings, etc. ). I'm simply an enthusiastic fan who loves creative writing. This chapter is told from Kylo's POV. I hope that you read and enjoy.

He’s elated. Indescribably so. Although acquiescence is preferable to recalcitrance, he neither craves nor requires amenability from her. After all, her spiritedness is an enticing flame that makes her more dynamic. So accustomed to obsequies subservience from the impressionable soldiers of the regime that is the First Order, such fiery insubordination is truly refreshing. Yes, it nettles him at times, but it doesn’t arouse wrathfulness like the unapologetic insolence of a particular general does. It will make much more meaningful her inevitable acceptance of him and his innermost wishes. For now, he effortlessly discovers contentedness in her cooperation in the auspicious establishment of their arrangement - in her newfound willingness to embrace his tutelage. Under his guidance, she’ll flourish and become someone no one will dare trifle with. Something that would not have transpired had she clung to the antiquated teachings introduced to her by a spineless troglodyte. 

It takes the willful demonstration of restraint to prevent himself from returning to his enthralling bondmate too soon. His vibrant _**student**_. Within the confines of his tenebrous quarters, a guileless smile is enabled to grace his marred visage with its presence. Finally - _**finally**_ , she’s relented. Even if her grudging submission was instigated by misplaced altruism in the face of the detainment and possible execution of her erstwhile mentor, the indisputable truth is that she has indeed yielded to an extent as he so plainly hoped that she would. In time, his intrepid scavenger will realize that he is a far more competent and respectable guide. There is no one _**alive**_ more qualified for the crucial role and sooner or later, she will see the sheer futility of repudiating this immutable fact. He’s never been the epitome of forbearance, but he knows that the fruitfulness of this sinuous pursuit demands dogged patience.  

Inexorably, his ardent wish to be beside her - in her _ **radiant** _ presence - becomes too insistent. He arranges for a droid to meet him at her quarters with sumptuous meals for them both to consume. As planned, he arrives before the docile machine and squanders no time at all in entering. He’s fortuitously met with the sight of _**HER**_ donning an ashen tunic and sable trousers. Perhaps the simplest of outfits he ensured that her wardrobe be filled with. What ensnares him, however, is the state of her hair. A small sea of dark chocolate is comprised by the majority of her presently damp hair while the remainder of it is left in a single bun. She’d obviously not meant for him to see her like this as a facial expression unambiguously bespeaking astonishment is affixed to her youthful countenance. The sentiment perceptibly echoes through their bond. With impeccable expedition, her dexterous extremities fly up to ‘fix’ the rest of her hair but he quickly rediscovers his voice. “Don’t.” He wondered what beauty might be beheld with her tresses liberated from taut bindings and he’s _ **far**_ from disappointed. “ _ **Please**_.” She hesitates at the unanticipated utterance and he thinks for a moment that his humility might be rewarded. However, she ultimately proceeds in adding the final two buns to complete her standard trio. That _**does** _ disappoint him. At least, until she says something quite unexpected. A tiny yet meaningful consolation, it seems. “You’ve already seen more than anyone else.” Oh, how that soothes and gratifies him. Even if his longing lingers. Perhaps soon enough she’ll cease denying him such a memorable sight. “I never agreed to you coming and going as you please.” 

At that, he offers a solitary nod of agreement. “We never discussed _**any**_ details. I plan on changing that while we eat.” He discerns an ephemeral gleam of unappeased ravenousness within hazel pools before it flees into a distrustful glare. “I can find food myself. If you let me out of here, that is.” His unobscured visage betrays not his unmitigated bafflement, but he does not doubt that she can sense it. “You already know my answer. Is your reluctance of my generosity intended to accuse me of trying to _**poison**_ you?” Does she truly not understand the fervid desire that she’s awoken within him? The reception of an answer never occurs as the ineluctable arrival of their food robs her of an opportunity to enlighten him. Poor timing, but not _**exceedingly**_ so. Dusting off manners that indelible phantoms of a forsaken past inculcated in him, he courteously pulls out a chair at the nearby table for her. The ire in her heated glare neither evaporates nor wanes, and a disgruntled scowl even forms on her lips. “I can seat myself.” A diminutive smile of amusement discreetly toys with his lips. “I never said otherwise.” 

They stay like that - locked in a charged battle of tenacious wills - for a moment before she releases an audible sigh and accepts his gesture of civility. Once she’s seated, he slides her seat forward and promptly claims his own across from her. The tractable droid sets their trays before them and wordlessly excuses itself from the room. Aware of the grievous desolateness and austerity of Jakku, the thought of dining aroused an unspoken curiosity within him that will now be satiated. Without furtivity, he observes her as her vigilant eyes consume the edible offerings and the lustrous utensils that have been presented to her. When the latter receives a chary look from her, he deduces that she knows not how to utilize them. She’s greatly pleased by the chilled glass of water on her silver tray, but her focus is clearly elsewhere - with the meal. 

Although her nimble digits subtly twitch with childlike eagerness, they refrain from demonstrating rapidity in plucking any comestibles from the wholesome assortment. Tentatively is her gaze elevated so that those mesmerizing eyes can observe him. So that she might surreptitiously glean knowledge from him. However, he’s prepared and his fathomless eyes resolutely meet hers to make known his uninhibited awareness of her gaze. She hurriedly glances away. “I’m not hungry.” Perhaps he’d be more irked by such blatant mendacity were the falsity not so endearing. “You _**are**_ , but you know nothing about dining etiquette. I suspected as much.” She scrutinizes him with the most incisive of glares. She presumes her callous humiliation was his aim when that couldn’t be further from the truth. “You wanted to see how barbaric I could be. Is that it?” 

“You’re argumentative, hostile, and irritable. Fending for yourself among thieves in a barren desert requires such strength. Combined with your fortitude, they make you admirable. Your ignorance is to be expected, but it’s not irremediable. I want to teach you.” His unconstrained candor mollifies her simmering indignation and if the visible color in her cheeks is anything to go by, his tireless veneration of her has pleased her. It has taken her aback as well. Before she can avert her gaze yet again, he swiftly begins to put to use his own utensils in a manner clearly meant to provide instruction. As he expertly cuts into tender pieces of meat, his movements are purposefully mirrored. “You can’t come in without knocking.” Although he’d hoped to simply derive pleasure from her company for a bit before addressing the matter at hand, her straightforwardness was not left unconsidered. “Very well. I expect you to answer me each time.” She quirks an umber brow as she takes a bite of her food. 

“Anything else?” 

“You will eat with me each night. You may have food delivered to you whenever you want before then.“   


“You’ll allow me to contact my friends.” 

A deep frown of unconcealed disapproval makes its way to his lips. He loathes the idea of allowing them to befoul her mind further with their nocuous duplicity, but a considering look in her direction automatically informs him of her unwavering unwillingness to negotiate. 

“Once every two weeks.”

“Once every day." 

"Once every week and a half. That is my final offer.” 

“ Fine, but I want my first opportunity today.” 

“No. You haven’t been here long. In that time, you’ve done nothing to earn it.” 

“I accepted your offer, didn’t I?” 

“Not entirely.” 

She knows that any argument initiated in response would be an unavailing one. Her frustration is palpable and she’d like to demonstrate tenacity in pursuing that which she wholeheartedly desires, but she wisely alters course. For a fleeting moment, they continue to devour their palatable meals in absolute silence. She’s nearly finished when she speaks once more.

“My clothes. I washed them not too long ago. I want a way to dry them. Sunlight and heat would dry my clothes out whenever I washed them, but you have me confined to a room without natural light and heating." 

"If you’re speaking of the clothing you were brought here in, you no longer need to concern yourself with it. As you seem to have discovered, you have an array of clothes at your disposal. Should you require more, I’ll have them delivered to you.” 

“I want _**my**_ clothes.” 

Realization’s visit is as precipitous as the formation of a rakish smirk upon his face. 

“First, the food. Now, the clothes. It was never about poisoning. You refuse to accept _**anything**_ **I** give you.” 

“I depend on no one. Especially not _**you**_.” 

Circuitous verification merely amuses him. As does her particularly scathing glare. Of course, he hopes that she'll eventually allow herself to enjoy his benevolence instead of spurn it.

“Accepting gifts doesn’t necessarily mean depending on someone.”

“I _**still** _ don’t want anything from you.”

“Why?” 

With unfaltering vehemence, she demystifies her barefaced disinclination.

“You’re supposed to be my _**enemy**_. Enemies don’t show each other kindness.” 

“I’ve never considered us enemies.” 

“What about when you tossed me against a tree? What about when you tried to steal the map?” 

“I had to stop you. I couldn’t let you leave. As for the map, you possessed knowledge that I needed. I told you that glimpsing your mind gave me no pleasure. I was gentle with you. In the forest on Takodana, you fired first. You did so again on Starkiller. You always do, but you and I are not meant to be enemies. This bond proves that.” 

He knows that talk of their unconventional link displeases her because its perpetuity and potence cause her to feel trapped, but he truly hopes that her viewpoint will evolve over time. For he fully believes - he knows for certain - that there is inestimable happiness to be found in the mutual acceptance of it. At the very least, its undeniable existence must convince her of destiny’s will for them.

"If we’re going to have dinner as often as you’d like, I’d rather we keep from talking about that.” 

“Perhaps not tonight, but we _ **will**_ discuss it. You misunderstand it. I want you to see it for what it really is. Once you stop fighting it - denying something that isn’t fleeting, you’ll see that avoiding it accomplished nothing.” 

The remainder of their meal is finished in unbroken silence despite a repressed urge within her to respond to his veracious assertions. They rise from the cluttered table simultaneously. “Tomorrow, we begin training. You may have the rest of the night to yourself. A droid will arrive soon to clean up." He'd like to linger aimlessly, but he has no doubt that she would find that decision objectionable at present. So, respectfully, he takes his leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've reached this point, I'd like to take a moment to thank you for your interest. It means more than words can describe. I feel much more in my element writing as Rey, but I've found that writing from Kylo's POV for fanfiction pieces can definitely be enjoyable for me as well. As mentioned last time, I fully intend to see this story through but I'll only be posting when I feel inspired to. So, since I cannot say when that will be, I definitely encourage you to follow the story for updates. Please remember, kudos and kind comments are always deeply appreciated. Please come visit me on Tumblr at rainistender. I'm usually on my rp account, which is different from that one, but I do check that account frequently. Prompts are always welcome.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for taking the time to read! Kudos and kind comments are always appreciated. I hope that you have a wonderful day. Stay tuned for the next chapter.


End file.
